


must have been kissing a fool

by carolinecrane



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-24
Updated: 2011-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine won't shut up about what a fantastic kisser Rachel is, so Kurt decides to go to the source for lessons. The source being one Noah Puckerman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	must have been kissing a fool

_You know, for a girl, Rachel’s really a very good kisser._

Kurt had been playing those words over and over since Blaine said them, picturing his dreamy smile and the way he kept pushing that one wayward curl back off his forehead as he spoke. Which led to him picturing _Rachel_ pushing that curl off his forehead, and before he could stop himself Kurt was picturing the kiss, in technicolor, like a particularly bad song he couldn’t get out of his head.

Frankly it was worse than the time Mr. Schuester forced them to listen to Captain and Tennille and Kurt spent a week dreaming about muskrats doing depraved things to each other.

Once the initial trauma of picturing Rachel trying to suck Blaine’s lips right off his face subsided, he pulled himself together and took stock of the situation. And the situation, as it turned out, was that Blaine appreciated experience. Finesse. And Kurt, while certainly willing to learn, currently possessed neither of those things.

So he decided to go straight to the source. The source being one Rachel Berry and her apparently magic lips. It wasn’t a terrible plan, he reasoned as he pulled into her driveway on a Friday afternoon. After all, he’d made out with Brittany and lived to tell the tale, so he could probably kiss Rachel without experiencing any life-altering after effects.

Of course there was always the chance she’d turn him bi too, but if Brittany couldn’t do it, he doubted even Rachel had that kind of power.

She didn’t look all that surprised to see him when she opened the door. In fact, she looked as though she’d been expecting him. Kurt squared his shoulders and pushed his chin out a little further, clutching his shoulder bag and telling himself that he could do this. It was just Rachel, and considering the number of people she apparently went around kissing, it probably wasn’t even going to affect their friendship.

“Hello, Kurt,” she said, smiling at him in a way that told him she’d been listening to Joni Mitchell again. “I was just working on a new song.”

“I won’t stay,” he said as he brushed past her into the house, careful not to look toward the basement stairs, lest he have to relive the kiss all over again. Instead he kept his eyes focused on the hallway that led to her bedroom, and once she’d closed the front door he followed her down the hall.

As soon as they were safely in the privacy of her room he opened his mouth to state his business, because he knew full well that getting it over with was the only approach to what was sure to be a humiliating situation. “I have a favor to ask.”

He felt his cheeks flush, but he didn’t let it stop him. He’d survived greater humiliations than this, after all, and at the hands of far more terrifying people. “I came here because Blaine won’t stop talking about what a fantastic kisser you are.”

“Really? Well, I do pride myself on a stellar performance, no matter the role.”

She smiled, and Kurt rolled his eyes and checked the urge to deflate her already overlarge ego with a well-chosen verbal jab. Instead he sat down on the edge of her bed and crossed his legs, hands resting carefully on his knee.

“Indeed. And since you learned to kiss from Finn, I can’t very well ask him to teach me his technique. Even if he didn’t get jumpy at the mere mention of a little boy-on-boy action, he’s sort of my brother these days. So that leaves you. It’s unorthodox, I realize, but I’m sure that we’re both mature enough not to let this interfere with our friendship.”

“But I didn’t,” Rachel said, and when she frowned at him he sort of wanted to scream, because he’d rehearsed that speech at least two dozen times in the past twenty-four hours.

“Didn’t what?"

“I didn’t learn to kiss from Finn. At least, he’s not the first boy I kissed. Well, he is, but just once, and it was over so quickly. No, I suppose if anyone taught me anything, it was Puck.”

“Puck,” Kurt repeated, cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red as he pictured the boy in question.

He remembered -- vaguely -- that brief period during sophomore year when Rachel dated Puck for roughly five minutes, and he’d heard both her and Finn moaning about it enough to know full well that she’d had another, even briefer encounter with him just before Christmas. But he’d never really paid much attention to what Puck was doing, so the fact that _he’d_ been the one to teach Rachel anything hadn’t dawned on Kurt.

But if anyone had experience, it was Puck. He could probably hold a Master Class in kissing, now that Kurt thought about it. Not that Kurt expected...but Puck was, above all, an opportunist. The question was whether Kurt was willing to risk the humiliation of broaching the subject again, and with _Puck_ , of all people. Then again, they didn’t even like each other, so at least there was no friendship to ruin.

“Thank you, Rachel," he said, standing up and brushing imaginary wrinkles from the front of his jacket. “I just remembered I have somewhere to be.”

“Already? But I wanted to get your opinion on the song I’ve been working on.”

“I’ll catch it on your Myspace,” Kurt said, waving over his shoulder as he let himself out.

~

Deciding to proposition Puck was a lot easier than doing the actual propositioning. He had to get Puck alone, for one thing, which should have been simple enough, considering he and Finn were friends again. But that meant whenever Puck was around, Finn was there too, and it wasn’t as though Kurt could just march into Finn’s room and request a moment of Puck’s time.

He thought about waiting outside the school, but there was too big a risk that Karofsky or one of his comrades-in-arms would find Kurt before he found Puck, and he’d already pressed his luck enough on that front. So in the end he found himself loitering outside Finn’s room one Saturday evening, waiting for the moment when Puck announced that he was leaving.

Listening to the two of them fire insults at each other over whatever video game they were playing was painful, to say the least, and he’d almost rethought his plan entirely when finally Puck stood up and announced that he had to get home before his mother grounded him again. Kurt darted down the stairs and out the front door before either boy spotted him, shivering in the cold night air and wishing he’d remembered to grab a jacket.

Endless seconds later the front door opened, and Kurt heard Finn call a final goodbye at Puck’s retreating back. And there was no way Finn could spot him in his hiding place on the opposite side of Puck’s car, but he waited until the front door was closed, just to be sure, before he stepped out of the shadows and cleared his throat.

Puck tensed and looked up, squinting at him in the darkness for a second before he recognized Kurt. As soon as he did his shoulders relaxed, and Kurt wondered who Puck had been expecting to make him so jumpy.

“Kurt? What the hell are you doing out here?”

“I wanted a word,” Kurt said, and he was glad it was dark out so at least Puck wouldn’t see him blush.

He’d been so determined to learn the kissing technique that would blow Blaine’s mind that he hadn’t let himself think about this moment, but now that it was here he was sure he was going to die of humiliation. At least if Puck didn’t kill him first.

“Well spit it out, dude. I have to get home.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and took a step forward, bottom lip catching between his teeth for a second before he made up his mind. The worst Puck could do was laugh in his face, and it wouldn’t be the first time, so Kurt didn’t have any reason to be scared. He’d certainly lived through rejection before, and at least this time it wasn’t personal.

“I have a business proposition for you. A temporary arrangement, and no one needs to know.”

“What, you mean like a job?”

“Yes, like a job,” Kurt said, taking a deep breath and willing himself not to say anything that would make Puck too angry to consider his offer before he even made it. “I need you to teach me how to kiss.”

“What?”

And okay, maybe he should have expected it to be a little difficult to make Puck understand what he was getting at. It wasn’t obvious, after all, and Puck could have no way of knowing what he’d been going through just trying to get Blaine to think of him as potential boyfriend material.

“I said I want to hire you to teach me how to kiss. Rachel says you taught her what she knows, and Blaine won’t stop going on about how skilled she is, and if I’m ever going to get him to take me seriously, I need to be at least as memorable as she apparently was.”

“Wait...what?”

Kurt rolled his eyes for the second time, then he took a few steps forward. The movement brought him close enough to get a good look at Puck, and even in the darkness Kurt could see what a nice mouth he had. Sure, he knew objectively that Puck was hot, but he’d never really _thought_ about it before. Kissing him wouldn’t be a hardship, certainly, as long as he managed to find a way to keep Puck from talking any more than absolutely necessary.

“Twenty dollars a lesson sounds fair, don’t you think? I don’t think it will take that many lessons, and I can assure you that I certainly don’t intend to tell anyone about this, so you don’t even have to have a big gay freakout or anything.”

“Dude,” Puck said, and Kurt bit his tongue to keep from snapping at him, “even if I was into kissing guys, I’m kind of trying to get something going with Lauren Zizes, and she’s got this whole thing about being courted or whatever. I don’t think she’d be down with me getting some on the side, even from another dude.”

“It’s not cheating, Puckerman, it’s _business_ ,” Kurt said, and really, it shouldn’t be this hard a sell. “Think of it this way: you can use the money from the lessons to buy nice things for Lauren. I’ll even throw in my personal shopping expertise as an extra incentive.”

Puck didn’t answer, but he arched one eyebrow in an expression Kurt had seen enough times to know he was actually considering the offer. It was more than Kurt expected, really, and his stomach trembled oddly when Puck looked him up and down.

“I guess it wouldn’t be that hard to pretend you were a chick, as long as I keep my eyes closed.”

“With charm like that it’s amazing you ever get any play at all,” Kurt said. “So do we have a deal?”

“I’ll think about it,” Puck said, then he pulled open his car door and slid inside. A few seconds later he was gone, and Kurt shivered again and hurried back up the walk to the front door. The _locked_ front door, and he sighed and leaned hard on the doorbell.

A minute later Finn pulled the door open, frowning as Kurt shoved past him into the warmth of the foyer. “Dude, what were you doing out there?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kurt said, then he disappeared into his room before Finn could ask any more questions.

~

Kurt was home alone the following afternoon, his homework spread out in front of him and trying hard not to replay his conversation with Puck over and over in his mind. It was humiliating enough to have propositioned Puck in the first place, but if he actually _told_ anybody about it, Kurt would never be able to show his face anywhere near McKinley again.

He’d probably have to leave Lima entirely.

Possibly even Ohio.

He was so busy trying not the think about it that he forgot no one else was home until the doorbell rang for the second time. Kurt let out a sigh and shut his history book, then he ran down the stairs and pulled the front door open.

Puck was leaning against the door frame, his jacket hanging open over a faded Aerosmith t-shirt, and Kurt swallowed hard at the sight of perpetually tan skin and the arrogant smirk that shouldn’t be nearly as appealing as it was.

“Finn’s not home.”

“I know,” Puck said, then he glanced toward the street like maybe he was afraid someone might spot him. Like he didn’t spend half his life in their house these days. “You gonna let me in or what? It’s freezing out here.”

Kurt nodded and stepped aside, shivering against the rush of cold air as Puck brushed past him. He closed the front door and locked it, then he took a deep breath and turned to face his...guest? Tutor? Business partner. Maybe if he kept thinking of it as a business transaction, he’d actually get through the next five minutes of his life without completely humiliating himself.

“So I take it you’ve come to a decision?”

“If you mean will I teach you how to mack on a dude Puck-style, then yeah. But nobody hears about this, got it? I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being into dudes, I guess, but I don’t need to be confusing the ladies.”

“As though I’d want anyone to know about this.” Kurt rolled his eyes and silently congratulated himself on sounding more confident than he felt. “So when did you want to start?”

“No time like the present, right?” Puck said, his smirk shifting into something almost...animal. He took a step forward, and Kurt shivered all over again and took an involuntary step backwards. When he realized what he’d done he blushed, but he reached up and planted a hand in the center of Puck’s chest.

“Not here. I’d prefer if my father didn’t come home early and find me making out with a straight football player in the front hallway. Frankly that’s a conversation I’d rather not have again.”

“Again?” Puck said, but Kurt didn’t offer an explanation, and Puck didn’t press for one. Instead he followed Kurt up the stairs to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them and glancing around the room.

“Right, so I’ve been thinking about it, and you’re trying to get with the Hobbit, right?”

“The...oh, for the love of...he’s not _that_ short.”

Puck smirked at him and Kurt rolled his eyes, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. “One, yeah, he is. And two, Santana’s the one who came up with it. So lesson one covers going in for the liplock while you’re standing up. And since the dude’s shorter than you, you’re gonna have to take off your boots.”

“We’re the same height,” Kurt said, frowning and glancing at the heels on Puck’s own boots. “How is making me shorter than you going to help?”

“Because first I’m going to show you how it’s done, and then you get to practice,” Puck said, rolling his eyes as though it should be obvious. And okay, now that he _said_ it, it kind of was. Kurt shrugged and slipped his boots off, then he turned to face Puck again.

“Now what?”

“Dude, chill, this was your idea,” Puck said. “It’s not going to work if you’re all tense about it.”

He probably had a point, but Kurt wasn’t sure why _Puck_ wasn’t being tense about it. He was the one with the aversion to kissing guys, after all, and considering that had been his main objection to this plan less than twenty-four hours ago, Kurt wasn’t sure why he was suddenly so on board with the idea.

“Okay, so you’re the Hobbit, right, and I’m you.”

“His name is Blaine.”

“Fine, so you’re Blaine,” Puck said, but he didn’t really look all that annoyed. Mostly he looked like he thought it was pretty funny, and Kurt wasn’t sure if that was supposed to make him feel better or worse about this whole thing. “I’m still you. So say you’re chilling before glee club one day, just leaning against the wall...”

Puck gestured with one hand in the direction of Kurt’s bedroom wall, and he rolled his eyes and stomped over to the spot. “Honestly, if I’d known there was going to be role play involved...”

“Who’s teaching who here?” Puck said, waiting until Kurt huffed a sigh and leaned against the wall. “So I spot you chilling outside the choir room, looking like you’re just waiting around for your knight in shining armor or whatever, and I decide to make my move.”

Puck took a few steps forward, stopping just in front of Kurt and pressing a hand to the wall above his right shoulder. With his boots on he really was about the right height, and Kurt couldn’t help wondering just how much thought he’d put into this scenario. He leaned in a little and Kurt held his breath, lips parted just a hair as he waited for Puck to kiss him.

“So let me ask you a question,” Puck said, pulling back and Kurt let out the breath he’d been holding. “If you buy somebody a box of chocolates and they eat the whole thing, then tell you they sucked, what does that mean?”

“It means they don’t have any manners.”

Kurt’s voice was sort of breathy, and he wasn’t even sure if he was relieved or disappointed that Puck had chickened out. In fact, it made him feel a little better in a way, because at least he wasn’t the only person in the room who was nervous.

“Yeah, but what if they really did suck? I mean, is there some brand of chocolates that hits it out of the park every time or what?”

“I assume this is about Lauren,” Kurt said, and for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, it sort of bothered him that Puck was thinking about Lauren while he was supposed to be teaching Kurt how to kiss. “Why don’t you just bake her some cupcakes? Everyone in school knows what an accomplished baker you are.”

“You know, that’s not such a bad idea,” Puck said, then he grinned and Kurt hated himself a little for thinking it was sort of sweet. “Thanks, dude.”

“I live to serve,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes and shifting a little against the wall. “Now if we could focus here? I have a lot of homework to do.”

“Oh, right,” Puck said, clearing his throat and adjusting his stance until he was swaying a little further into Kurt’s personal space. “Here goes nothing.”

He leaned in until his mouth was just a whisper away from Kurt’s, so close that Kurt could feel Puck’s breath against his lips. He counted a beat, then another, but Puck wasn’t closing the distance between them. ‘Frustrating’ didn’t really begin to cover it, and if this was what Kurt was paying for, he was going to have to renegotiate the terms of their agreement.

He shifted a little against the wall, turning his face up a fraction more, until his lips just brushed against Puck’s. For a second they both froze, then Puck pressed forward and brushed their lips together again, harder this time. Kurt’s hands came up to close around the front of his shirt, then Puck’s hand slid into his hair and Kurt forgot to worry about whether or not Puck was going to mess it up.

All he could think about was the press of Puck’s mouth against his, lips just slightly parted and his touch almost gentle in a way Kurt never would have expected. The few times he’d let himself consider it, he’d assumed Puck would be demanding, all teeth and tongue and moving way too fast. But this...this was soft and slow, as though they had all the time in the world, and when Puck pulled back Kurt realized that he was stretching up on his toes to try to follow him.

He flushed and looked away, reaching up to wipe at the corner of his mouth with a thumb. When he ventured a glance up Puck was still watching him, eyes a little glazed and his mouth turned up in a strange little smile.

“See what I did there?” Puck said, and his voice was huskier than it had been a minute ago. “I made you come to me. The secret is to give him just so much, and then make him take that last step. That way he thinks it was all his idea.”

“That’s very...insightful,” Kurt answered, though he wasn’t entirely sure he believed it. Still, he’d certainly wanted to kiss Puck enough to take that last step, so maybe he knew what he was talking about.

Puck grinned, then he backed off and sat on the edge of Kurt’s bed to pull his boots off. “So now you know how it’s done, you get to practice.”

He stood up and crossed back to the wall, leaning hard against it and smirking at Kurt. And there was something about having Puck in his room with his shoes off, leaning against the wall and waiting for Kurt to kiss him, that was ridiculous but sort of a turn-on at the same time. Kurt glanced at his boots, then changed his mind and reached for the history textbook still lying on his desk. He set it on the floor in front of Puck and stepped onto it, raising an eyebrow when Puck laughed.

“Hey, whatever works, dude,” Puck said, and Kurt grinned in spite of himself and pressed a hand against the wall near Puck’s shoulder.

For a second he just stayed like that, watching Puck watch him, and when the butterflies in his stomach started doing somersaults, he told himself it was just because of the strangeness of the situation. It didn’t have anything to do with kissing _Puck_ , though granted, he was good at it.

Of course he was good at it; he’d kissed practically the entire female population of William McKinley High School, not to mention all his other conquests. Kurt, on the other hand, was painfully aware that his only experience to date included an experiment with Brittany that was mostly about proving something to his father, a clumsy assault on his person by a closeted football player, and one kiss with Puck that he was paying for.

Kurt felt his cheeks heat up again and he started to take it back, but before he could Puck’s hands were on the front of his shirt, holding him in place. “Hey, chill. You look like you’re about to hurl or something.”

“It’s not...I just...”

And that was just great, because he hadn’t embarrassed himself enough already without losing his capacity for speech. He expected Puck to laugh at him, but instead he just shook his head and pushed until Kurt stepped back off his history book.

“Okay, plan B,” Puck said. Before Kurt could object his back was pressed against the wall again, and this time Puck didn’t hesitate before he pressed their lips together. He wasn’t all that gentle this time either; in fact, this kiss was a lot closer to what Kurt expected kissing Puck would be like. It was lips and teeth and hands holding him hard against the wall, making Kurt press up into them and when he slid his arms around Puck’s neck, Puck let him.

He let Kurt cup the back of his head, let him slide his fingers through surprisingly soft hair and when Puck’s lips parted against his, Kurt opened his mouth automatically. Then Puck’s tongue was in his mouth, and Kurt wanted to laugh, he wanted to push Puck away and say enough, because it was too much, and he didn’t want to _feel_ things just because Puck made a noise in his throat and pushed a hand up under Kurt’s shirt.

As soon as he made contact with bare skin Puck let go, hands leaving Kurt like Kurt had burned him. And Kurt expected him to look vaguely disgusted, with himself or with Kurt, or maybe with both of them, it didn’t really matter. But mostly he just looked sort of surprised, and Kurt couldn’t blame him there.

“Okay,” he said, reaching up to run his hands over his scalp, and Kurt couldn’t help following the motion with his eyes. “I think you get the point.”

Kurt nodded idiotically as Puck reached for his boots, tugging them on without bothering to sit down and he wasn’t sure if it was watching Puck nearly fall over that did it, but Kurt came back to his senses enough to remember his end of the bargain.

“Wait, your payment,” Kurt said, reaching into his messenger bag for his wallet and pulling out a twenty. He held it out, and Puck glanced at the money and then down at the floor for a second. Then he looked up again, but he didn’t quite meet Kurt’s gaze as he pulled the twenty out of his hand.

“Thanks.”

“I think that’s my line,” Kurt said, then he blushed, but it didn’t really matter, because Puck never looked back to see him do it.

~

Kurt didn’t hear from Puck again for a few days. He’d made the decision not to press the issue; if Puck had decided he couldn’t handle it, Kurt wasn’t going to try to talk him into more lessons. He’d picked up a couple pointers already, after all, and he was pretty sure if he was hopeless at it Puck wouldn’t have had any problem letting him know.

So he did his best to put it out of his mind, and when his cell phone beeped on Wednesday night he was surprised to pick it up and see that the new text was from Puck.

_wut r u doing?_

Kurt rolled his eyes and hit reply, then typed two words:

_Homework. Why?_

A few seconds later his phone beeped again, and when he read the message his stomach did a weird little flip.

_lesson 2, thats y. pik me up, we need ur car_

Kurt didn’t bother texting back to ask why; he knew he wouldn’t get an answer, and anyway he had a feeling this was another one of Puck’s imaginative role play scenarios. The idea of his first kiss happening in his car wasn’t so far-fetched, he supposed. Then again, he’d already had his first kiss a few times over now, if he thought about it.

He never really counted Brittany, mostly because of her glaring lack of a penis. He certainly didn’t count Karofsky, and now he’d kissed Puck a couple times, but he wasn’t sure if he could count those either. He’d paid for them, for one thing, and it wasn’t like Puck was kissing him because he was attracted to Kurt. He was just doing a job, and granted, he’d demonstrated an extraordinary work ethic so far, but that didn’t mean he was enjoying it.

Kurt swallowed a sigh and reached for his keys, then he stopped long enough to tell his father he was meeting a friend for a quick study session and let himself out of the house. He pulled up in front of Puck’s house a few minutes later, and he’d barely coasted to a stop when the passenger door opened and Puck climbed in.

“Damn, I love this car.”

“Finally we find some common ground,” Kurt said, smiling when Puck laughed. “So where to?”

Puck shrugged sort of helplessly, and Kurt would have thought it was kind of cute if this wasn’t Puck’s idea in the first place. “The school? It’s usually empty by now.”

“Minus the cops who patrol the grounds every hour,” Kurt reminded him, and it was pretty pathetic that Kurt had to remind Puck about avoiding the police. “I know a place, but it’s a little bit of a drive.”

“Fine by me,” Puck said, grinning and stretching his arm along the back of the seat. He started to lift one boot to brace it against the dashboard, but a sharp look from Kurt made him change his mind.

Neither of them said much on the way across town, save an argument over who got to pick the music and why there wasn’t anything on Kurt’s iPod that ‘doesn’t suck’. They were almost to the park Kurt had in mind when Puck looked over at him, and Kurt slowed to take a right before he glanced back at Puck.

“If you were going to sing something to impress the Hobbit, what would you pick?”

Kurt rolled his eyes at the unfortunate nickname and pulled up in front of the planetarium. He chose a spot far enough from the main entrance to keep any passersby from wondering what they were up to, but close enough to the building to avoid raising suspicion.

“Considering the last time I sang for him he told me to stop trying so hard, I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask.”

“Seriously?” Puck said, frowning like he actually cared what happened to Kurt. “Man, why do you even like this guy? You go to a gay school now, there have to be other dudes to choose from.”

“It’s not a gay school,” Kurt snapped. He shut off the engine but left the iPod playing, mostly because he knew Puck hated the playlist he’d chosen. “To be honest, most of the guys who go there are a lot like...well, like you. They’re nicer, certainly, and everyone gets along, for the most part, but I’m still very much in the minority when it comes to sexual preference.”

“Hey, I’m nice,” Puck said, and it just figured that’s what he would take away from Kurt’s speech. He laughed in spite of himself, shaking his head and glancing over at Puck.

“Well, Blaine certainly likes the idea of being serenaded, but I think in order to make an impression I’d have to choose something a little more contemporary than last time. Maybe ‘Hold It Against Me’. I’d consider ‘Stay Here Tonight’, but I’d have to rewrite the entire arrangement to make it work for my voice.”

Puck was just staring at him like Kurt had suddenly started speaking French, which he assumed meant that Puck wasn’t familiar with either Britney’s or Enrique’s current catalog. Not that he was all that surprised; Puck struck him as more of the country/hard rock/songs that mention whiskey a lot type. He shrugged and settled a little further into the leather upholstery, taking off his seat belt and turning until he was facing Puck.

“What’s this about, anyway?”

“I sang to Lauren a couple weeks ago in glee. To show her that I was into her, you know?”

“What did you sing?”

“‘Fat-bottomed Girls’.”

Kurt winced, but he couldn’t quite hide a smile, because that was the Puck he remembered. “I take it that didn’t go over so well.”

“She said it made her feel like crap. I was just trying to show her that I like her no matter what she looks like. She’s a badass chick, you know? I don’t want to get with her for her body. I just like her.”

“As admirable a sentiment as that is, surely even you know that most people want to feel wanted in a relationship. If you keep reminding her that you’re not actually attracted to her, she’s probably not going to come around.”

Until that moment Kurt had counted the strangest moment of his life as the time Dave Karofsky kissed him. Stranger than offering to pay Puck to give him kissing lessons, stranger even than making out with Brittany while wearing a trucker hat. But sitting outside the planetarium with Puck, giving him _relationship_ advice, beat even Karofsky’s tiny baby step out of the closet.

“How’d the cupcakes go over?”

“What? Oh, great. That was a good idea, dude. Thanks.”

“I’m glad to hear it. But maybe next time you should try to impress her with something that’s not edible. If you really want her to think you don’t care about her looks.”

Puck’s body was still facing forward, but he’d turned his head to look at Kurt awhile ago. They were both leaning toward the center console, and Kurt hadn’t realized just how close they’d gotten until the moment Puck’s gaze drifted to his mouth. As soon as it happened Kurt remembered what they were doing there in the first place, and his stomach fluttered into his throat and then sank like a stone when Puck leaned across the console and kissed him.

His heart hammered in his chest, and he told himself it was just a basic biological reaction. His body had reacted when Brittany kissed him too, and when Karofsky did it Kurt thought his heart might never stop racing. So the fact that he felt Puck’s kiss in every nerve ending in his body didn’t mean a thing; he was just a really good kisser, and anyone would react to Puck’s mouth moving against theirs, soft lips teasing Kurt’s own lips apart to slide his tongue past Kurt’s teeth.

His hand was in Kurt’s hair again, tilting his head just so and sort of holding him there, like maybe he had an agenda and he wasn’t planning to let Kurt go until he’d checked off every point on his list. And Kurt wasn’t inclined to stop him, not when Puck’s mouth felt like it was made to fit against his, and Puck’s free hand had closed over his where it rested on the console.

As soon as he realized they were _holding hands_ Puck pulled back, blinking at him for a few seconds before he shifted against the upholstery and cleared his throat.

“So, uh...lesson two, right? Going in for your first kiss in a car can be tricky. I mean, if the Hobbit -- sorry, Blaine -- has any dude in him at all, he’s going to be distracted by your ride. So that should make it a little easier. But this thing gets in the way,” Puck said, pausing to pat the console almost lovingly, and Kurt wondered for a fleeting second if he was only doing this because he wanted to make out in Kurt’s car, “and the distance means he’s got time to think about what’s happening and put a stop to it. So surprise is your friend here.”

Kurt nodded, grateful once again that it was dark out so Puck wouldn’t see him blush. Because of _course_ he’d distracted Kurt with all that conversation before he’d just _launched_ himself at Kurt. It wasn’t about the sudden urge to kiss Kurt; it was about setting the stage so Kurt could see his distraction strategy at work.

“The element of surprise is key. Got it.”

Puck nodded once, then he looked away, out the windshield toward the building in front of them. “Where the hell are we, anyway?”

“The planetarium,” Kurt answered. “I figured there wasn’t much chance we’d run into anyone from McKinley doing something educational, and anyone who does wander past will just assume we’re admiring the stars from the comfort of our car.”

Puck grinned and turned to look at him again. “Good thinking. I’m impressed.”

“I have my moments,” Kurt said, smiling back at Puck, and when he realized he was _smiling at Puck_ he let out a surprised laugh. “You know, this wouldn’t be such a terrible place to take Lauren. She’s quite a good student, and it is educational.”

“I told you, she’s not into this kind of education. She wants to take it slow.”

He almost rolled his eyes at the end of the sentence, but he was sort of smiling too, which meant he probably didn’t mind all that much. Puck exercising any kind of patience was something Kurt never thought he’d see, but it was sort of nice to know he was capable, anyway. It was nice to know that at least he was making the effort, even if it did seem like maybe it was for the wrong reasons.

“I didn’t mean making out in the parking lot,” Kurt answered, blushing all over again. “You’d actually have to go inside the building. They have a giant telescope in there, you can look through it and see the moon up close and everything.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Puck said, and the weird thing was, it sounded like he meant it. “So do you want to give it a try or what?”

“What? Oh,” Kurt said, lips pressed together to stop himself from doing something embarrassing like laughing. “The element of surprise is sort of out the window at this point, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but there’s still the console to think about. You should probably get comfortable with working around it so you don’t have a panic attack about it when it’s time for the real deal.”

It was a valid point, Kurt knew, so he nodded and took a deep breath, glancing down at the console and then up at Puck again. He was determined not to panic and chicken out this time, because once was bad enough, but if someone as painfully heterosexual as Noah Puckerman could just kiss him like it was nothing, Kurt should be able to do this no problem.

He rested a hand on the center console and scooted forward a little in his seat, gauging the distance between their mouths so he wouldn’t overshoot his target and break anyone’s nose. He stifled a hysterical giggle at the thought and swayed forward, stopping just inside Puck’s personal space and resting a hand on his chest.

Their mouths were barely a breath apart, just like that first time when Puck had made him seal the deal. From this close up the angles of Puck’s face were sharper, the contrast of dark eyelashes against his cheeks more stark and for the first time Kurt could remember, he looked almost...vulnerable. Then Puck made a noise somewhere in the back of his throat, the sound shooting straight to Kurt’s dick, and his eyes snapped open just before he pressed forward to kiss Kurt.

It was softer this time, just like that first time, and Kurt felt it all the way to his toes. His skin burned where Puck’s hand curved around his neck, fingers tracing the line of his throat and his lips just barely parted against Kurt’s, keeping the kiss almost chaste. There was just a hint of tongue, and part of Kurt wanted more, but he didn’t know how to ask and anyway he figured he was probably supposed to be learning something here.

That was the whole point of this, after all; he was supposed to be studying Puck’s technique, learning all his secrets about making someone feel wanted in the best ways imaginable. And Puck was an excellent teacher, because if he didn’t remind himself constantly that this was a business arrangement, it would be easy for Kurt to forget Puck didn’t want him.

“Nice,” Puck said when Kurt pulled back, and he probably didn’t mean for it to sound quite so dreamy. “You’ve got some okay moves, Hummel.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said, blushing because he had no idea if that was the kind of compliment one expected a ‘thank you’ for.

If Puck thought it was stupid he didn’t say; instead he grinned, then he glanced over the headrest toward the back seat. “So do you want to talk about making the transition from the front seat to a little back seat action, or are we sticking with kissing here?”

Kurt blinked at him for a few idiotic seconds as he tried to work out whether or not Puck had just propositioned him. But that was impossible, because Puck was still straight and this was all a means to an end for him. What end, Kurt didn’t know, nor did he particularly want to. He didn’t care what Puck did with the money; he _couldn’t_ care, because the whole point of this arrangement was developing the confidence to show Blaine once and for all that Kurt had what he was looking for.

“I think we should stick with kissing,” Kurt heard himself say, regretting it almost before the words were even out of his mouth. He was never going to get another opportunity like this one, after all, not with Puck. But no matter how hot and willing Puck was, it was still just a job for him, and Kurt wasn’t _that_ hard up.

“Your call, dude,” was all Puck said. Kurt expected him to declare the lesson over and demand to be taken home, but instead Puck leaned across the console again and pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of Kurt’s mouth. It was soft and sweet and so unexpected that Kurt didn’t even react before Puck was pulling back again to grin at him up close.

“Hey, Kurt?”

“Hmm?” Kurt heard himself murmur, cringing at the dreamy quality of his voice.

“Can I drive?”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed, because it would just figure that Puck was trying to seduce him into giving up the keys to his car. To someone who’d driven through a convenience store, no less, though granted, he’d actually done that on purpose. And really, considering what Puck was doing for him, it probably wasn’t that much to ask. Kurt sighed and slid closer to the door, then he glanced back at Puck.

“Fine. But you get so much as a scratch on her and my father will _own_ you. Understand?”

“Sure, whatever,” Puck said, grinning like a kid who’d just been let loose in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory as he scrambled out of the car. Kurt smiled in spite of himself and swung the door open, stepping onto the pavement only to find himself face to face with Puck. They were eye to eye, which meant they were both wearing flat shoes, and Kurt wondered vaguely why he’d even noticed when he found himself being backed against the side of his car.

“You know, dude, you’re not so bad after all,” Puck said, though Kurt got the feeling Puck wasn’t actually talking _to_ him. His gaze was locked on Kurt’s mouth, and when his hands landed on Kurt’s hips Kurt didn’t ask what he thought he was doing. He was paying for this, after all, so he figured he might as well enjoy whatever extras Puck felt like tossing in along the way.

A second later Puck was kissing him again, pressing Kurt back against the metal frame of the Navigator with his entire body, and Kurt stopped thinking at all. Puck’s chest was pressed against his, one knee pressing between Kurt’s thighs and he was _not_ going to grind against Puck like some sex-starved cheerleader. He had more dignity than that, but damn if Puck didn’t make it almost impossible to remember.

He’d been hard pretty much since they got to the planetarium, because he was a teenage boy, and it sort of went with the territory. Puck didn’t need to know quite how much of an effect he had on Kurt, though, at least not if Kurt could help it.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that; not long, probably, but time had a strange way of stretching out when Puck was kissing him. And that was the trick Kurt was supposed to be learning here, so he tried to pay attention. He focused on the way Puck’s mouth moved against his, the way his tongue traced every inch of Kurt’s mouth. Like he was committing it to memory, maybe, and every time he discovered some new spot that made Kurt moan against him Puck probed the spot until Kurt was panting and straining up for more.

By the time Puck finally let him go Kurt had abandoned all semblance of self-control, and he blushed hot and red when he realized that there was no way Puck had missed exactly how turned on he was. Though it was Puck’s own fault, and if he was going to get all weird about a basic biological urge, that was his problem.

Only Puck wasn’t really being weird about it, which was sort of the problem. He wasn’t letting Kurt up, either; instead he was still holding Kurt against the side of the car, then he reached up and ran the pad of his thumb along Kurt’s bottom lip. A second later he cleared his throat and backed off, and Kurt had to lock his knees against the urge to slide down the side of the Navigator.

“Come on, get in. I want to see how this thing handles,” Puck said, and Kurt blinked and nodded idiotically before he rounded his own car to climb into the passenger seat.

~

Giving Noah Puckerman relationship advice was the official weirdest moment of Kurt’s life, right up until Saturday night rolled around.

It had been three days since their second lesson, and by the time they got back to Puck’s house that night things were more or less back to normal. Puck was too focused on driving to worry about whatever that kiss up against the side of the car had been about, anyway, and Kurt was mostly too busy worrying about Puck driving too fast and wrecking his baby to think about it. Mostly.

But when they pulled up in front of Puck’s house and he held out another twenty, it felt just a little...well, creepy. Puck must have felt it too, because he didn’t meet Kurt’s eyes when he took the money. He just muttered a gruff ‘thanks’ and pocketed it, then he climbed out of the driver’s seat. He didn’t try to kiss Kurt again when they nearly collided on their way around the car, but he did reach out to steady Kurt with a hand on his waist.

Just for a second, then it was gone, but he looked so _confused_ about it that Kurt almost felt bad for getting him into the situation in the first place. Because Puck was straight, and it was clear that he didn’t really understand his body’s perfectly natural reactions to physical stimulus. It didn’t suddenly make him gay just because he enjoyed the physical act of kissing another person, and maybe Kurt would sit him down and explain that at their next lesson.

If there was a next lesson.

He wouldn’t have been all that surprised if there wasn’t, especially after the way they left things on Wednesday night. Puck hadn’t shown up at the house for the past two days, anyway, and by the time Saturday rolled around, Kurt had more or less put it out of his mind. Blaine was coming over to hang out and go over some potential song choices for Nationals -- _it’s never too early to prepare, Kurt,_ he’d said in a voice that sounded so much like Rachel that for a second Kurt thought they actually had missed an opportunity in not dating each other.

The doorbell rang at 2:00 right on the dot, and Kurt ran down the stairs and pulled it open. His smile faded abruptly when he saw that Blaine wasn’t alone; standing at the bottom of the stairs with his back to the door was Puck, and Kurt willed himself not to blush at the sight of the two of them trying their hardest to pretend they couldn’t see each other.

“Hi,” Blaine said, and Kurt blinked and forced another smile.

“Blaine, come in,” Kurt said, standing aside to let him pass. Once he was through the door Kurt looked at Puck again, taking in the tense set of his shoulders and telling himself Puck was just being weird because of what had happened during their last lesson. “Puckerman, are you coming in?”

Puck looked up at the sound of his voice, something Kurt couldn’t name flashing in his eyes for a second before he nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, dude.”

He brushed past Kurt and headed straight for the stairs, not looking back on his way to Finn’s room. Kurt paused with his back to Blaine and took a deep breath, then he closed the door and turned the lock.

“What’s with him?” Blaine asked when Kurt turned toward him again, glancing in the direction Puck had disappeared.

“Girl trouble, no doubt,” Kurt answered, and it wasn’t really a lie. It wasn’t exactly the truth, either, but it wasn’t like Kurt could explain the awkwardness without admitting how pathetic he was. “Come on, the newest _Vogue_ came in yesterday’s mail. Wait until you see the preview of Donna Karan’s Fall line.”

He led Blaine up the stairs to his room, closing the door behind them and taking Blaine’s coat to hang it up. When he turned back to the bed Blaine was already sitting on the edge, flipping through the new _Vogue_ without really looking at the pages.

“So Finn and his friend...they definitely aren’t...”

“Oh my God, no,” Kurt said, glancing involuntarily in the direction of Finn’s room. “Finn and Puck? Trust me, they are both one hundred percent heterosexual.”

Even as he said it he remembered strong hands on his waist, pushing him up against cold metal and holding him there while Puck kissed him like he was trying to prove something. Who he was trying to prove it to Kurt didn’t know, but his stomach trembled uncomfortably and he sat down before his knees gave out.

“Shame,” Blaine murmured, and Kurt narrowed his eyes at the little smile turning up the corners of Blaine’s mouth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Blaine said, glancing up at Kurt with a look that told Kurt that Blaine thought his naivete was sort of pathetic. “It’s just kind of hot, don’t you think? I mean, they’re both good-looking. Don’t tell me you’ve never pictured them together.”

“First of all, ew,” Kurt said, wrinkling his nose when Blaine laughed, and he was grateful not for the first time that Blaine hadn’t been around to witness Kurt’s disastrous crush on Finn. “You’re talking about my stepbrother. And secondly, Finn is painfully straight. There’s less than zero chance of him indulging in any teenage experimentation, even while intoxicated. So don’t go getting any ideas.”

He hadn’t meant to sound quite so waspish, but judging by Blaine’s expression, he’d failed. Still, if Blaine was going to develop yet another inappropriate crush, he might as well benefit from Kurt’s experience.

“What about Puck? Any chance he’s ever done any experimentation?”

Kurt swallowed hard against the memory of Puck smirking at him and nodding toward the back seat of the Navigator, reminding himself for the twentieth time that Puck was just doing a job. It had nothing to do with wanting Kurt, and Kurt was just fine with that, because he wanted the idiot currently smirking at him from the other side of his bed.

Well. Most of the time Kurt was pretty sure that was who he wanted. Lately he wasn’t quite as sure.

“He’s dated nearly every girl at McKinley and possibly a couple of the teachers,” Kurt answered. “I sincerely doubt he’s going to wake up gay any time soon.”

“Look, Kurt, I know you don’t believe in the concept of bisexuality,” Blaine began, holding up a hand when Kurt opened his mouth to interrupt. “But you’re wrong. I’m not saying Puck’s bi. I don’t know anything about him, other than he’s nice to look at. But maybe you should do a little research before you dismiss the concept altogether. It sucks to be judged for being gay, right? So it probably sucks just as much to be judged for being bi.”

Kurt didn’t dignify Blaine’s little speech with an answer, but Blaine didn’t appear to expect one, because he turned his attention back to _Vogue_ and flipped a few more pages. For awhile Kurt assumed that was the end of it, but a few minutes later Blaine glanced up at him and grinned.

“Still, you have to admit the _idea_ is kind of hot.”

Kurt knew Blaine was expecting him to smile and admit that not only had he considered it, but that yes, the thought of Puck experimenting with his bi side was pretty hot. Except that Kurt _had_ considered it -- more than that, he had firsthand experience with Puck’s so-called ‘bi side’ -- and he knew exactly how hot it was.

The hotness wasn’t the problem. The problem was that it was confusing, being so turned on by someone he didn’t even like all that much. Except the more time he spent alone with Puck, the more he...well, Kurt didn’t hate him, anyway. The truth was he could be kind of funny...charming, even, in a completely predictable sort of way. He’d surprised Kurt with the amount of thought he was putting into this whole thing with Lauren, and Kurt didn’t _get_ it, exactly, but it was still nice to see Puck acting like a human being.

So maybe the problem was that the more time Kurt spent around Puck, the harder it was to ignore the fact that he wasn’t just the one-dimensional bully Kurt had seen him as for so long. He could tell himself their lessons were just business, that it was just a means to an end, but he couldn’t ignore the way just being close to Puck made him feel.

“Kurt? Are you okay?”

Kurt blinked and looked up at Blaine, then he reached up to swipe a hand across his eyes.

“Fine,” he answered, drawing himself up a little taller and turning away from Blaine to reach for his iPod. “I just don’t want to waste my afternoon talking about Noah Puckerman, if that’s okay with you.”

After that Blaine did let it drop, but Kurt didn’t miss the curious glances he cast in Kurt’s direction when he thought Kurt wasn’t paying attention. He left earlier than Kurt expected, though he could hardly blame Blaine, considering how distracted Kurt had been all afternoon. The truth was he was sort of glad to see Blaine go, and he felt a little guilty about it, but not guilty enough to try to talk him into staying.

He had no idea if Puck was still around, and he wasn’t about to go find out. There was no way he was going to embarrass himself by hanging around Finn’s room like some pathetic groupie, trying to catch a glimpse of Puck. If Puck wanted to see him...but Puck didn’t want anything from him. It was all Kurt’s plan, it was him who needed something from Puck, and Puck could walk away any time he wanted.

He was trying not to dwell on that depressing thought when someone knocked on his door, and Kurt sucked in a sharp breath before he caught himself. He shook his head and reminded himself that there were three other people living in the house, and chances were good it was probably his dad or Carole checking up on him.

“Come in,” he called, not bothering to look up when the door swung open.

“Is he gone?”

At the sound of Puck’s voice Kurt’s heart skipped a beat, and he looked up to watch Puck walk into his room and shut the door behind him. He was looking around like he expected someone else to appear around the corner, and Kurt’s heart fluttered again when he realized Puck was talking about Blaine.

“He left an hour ago.”

“Good.” Puck turned and dropped onto the edge of Kurt’s bed, leaning back on his hands and planting his feet wide apart and looking...sinful. Kurt flushed, then he swallowed and gripped the edge of his desk hard enough to make his knuckles go white. “So you interested in lesson number three?”

“Oh...okay,” Kurt stammered, wincing when his voice broke. “If you’ve got the time.”

“I told Finn I was going home,” Puck answered, grinning and patting the spot next to him on the bed. “This’ll be easier if you’re not halfway across the fucking room.”

“Right,” Kurt said, though he wasn’t entirely sure he could stand. His dick had taken an interest at the sound of Puck’s voice, and he wasn’t altogether convinced that sitting on his bed with Puck was such a good idea. But it wasn’t really any different than sitting in his car with Puck, he reasoned, so Kurt steeled himself and stood up to cross the few feet between his desk and the bed.

When he got close enough for Puck to touch, a hand reached out to close around his arm, then Puck tugged him down onto the bed so that their thighs were pressed together.

“Dude, relax.”

Kurt nodded, then he took a deep breath and tried to relax. He could do this; he’d done this before -- twice, in fact -- and this time was no different than the others. So Puck was enjoying it a little more than Kurt expected; he probably just got off on the idea of Kurt wanting him. He’d always been an attention whore, after all, and if he wasn’t getting enough attention from the current object of his affection, Kurt was probably a decent stand-in.

He shoved that depressing thought away, then he gritted his teeth, muttered a soft _screw it_ under his breath, and gripped the front of Puck’s shirt. For a second Puck looked sort of surprised, but Kurt didn’t give him time to take back control of the situation. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t wait Puck out until he took that final step. He just tugged him forward and pressed their lips together, mouth open and when Puck made a funny little squeaking noise, Kurt pushed his tongue past Puck’s teeth.

It took a second for Puck to get with the program, but then Puck turned toward him, hands on him to drag him closer. It was kind of a weird angle, but Kurt was too frustrated to care. He didn’t care about anything except kissing Puck like he meant it, until Puck realized what was happening and freaked out. He wanted Puck to pull away, to panic and scramble up off the bed, eyes wide and staring at Kurt like he was some kind of freak. He wanted Puck to say he couldn’t do this anymore, that Kurt didn’t need his help and he was ready to make his move with Blaine.

He wanted to hear all that, because maybe if Puck said it Kurt would remember why he’d started this in the first place. Maybe he’d remember that Blaine was the one he was supposed to want. He was the one Kurt was supposed to dream about and imagine kissing; he was the one Kurt could see having a relationship with.

He couldn’t want those things with Puck, because no matter how good this felt, Puck didn’t mean any of it.

As soon as he thought it Kurt pulled away with a gasp, then he reached up to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth. He was dimly aware that his hands were shaking, but he ignored it and reached down to brush imaginary wrinkles from the front of his shirt.

“Damn, Kurt,” Puck said, voice breathy and close to Kurt’s ear and God, really, really sexy. He closed his eyes against the sound, and when he felt Puck’s hand slide around the side of his neck, he told himself to pull away. He tried, or at least he thought he did, but in the end all he managed to do was give Puck more room to work with.

Then Puck’s mouth was on his neck, pressing hot kisses against bare skin. His teeth dragged along the sensitive skin just behind Kurt’s ear, and when Kurt gasped Puck laughed and soothed the spot with his tongue. He pulled back just far enough to huff a hot breath against Kurt’s skin, sending a fresh shiver down his spine and this so wasn’t fair, because it _felt_ real.

“Puck,” he said, though he wasn’t sure what he was planning to say, exactly. Stop? He wasn’t sure he had the strength to make Puck stop, no matter how imaginary these feelings were. “Puck...”

“Kurt,” Puck said, whispering against Kurt’s jaw as he kissed his way back to Kurt’s mouth. “Shut up.”

He hardly had a choice when Puck claimed his mouth again, sliding a hand into Kurt’s hair to hold him in place while he pushed at Kurt’s shoulder with his other. Before Kurt even realized he was moving, he was letting Puck push him back onto the mattress, stretching out next to him and pushing a knee between his legs without ever breaking the kiss. And this was worse than pressing Kurt up against the wall or his car, because there was no way Kurt could hide how much he wanted this when Puck was right _there_.

Except Puck’s hips were rocking against him, and when Kurt turned into him just a little he felt the unmistakable press of Puck’s erection digging into his thigh. Kurt gasped against Puck’s mouth and tried to pull away, but Puck’s grip was strong and the truth was his heart wasn’t really in it. He _wanted_ Puck to want him, wanted him to want this as much as Kurt did, and even if it was just a biological response, at least Kurt could pretend for awhile.

“Lesson three,” Puck murmured against his mouth, then he pulled back just far enough to look at Kurt. His hips were still moving, knee pushed between Kurt’s thighs and pressing down until Kurt had to bite his lip to keep from moaning. “Show me how much you want me.”

Kurt opened his mouth to deny it, or maybe just to tell Puck that they couldn’t do this. It had already gone too far; Kurt had what he needed, and Puck didn’t have to pretend anymore. Instead he slid a hand around the back of Puck’s neck and tugged him forward, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to side of his jaw, then the underside of his chin. He had no idea what he was doing, but that didn’t seem to matter, because Puck was rocking even harder against him.

He was murmuring encouragement, things like _yeah_ and _like that_ , then he leaned in and whispered right next to Kurt’s ear, _you gonna come for me, baby?_ and Kurt blushed hard and kissed him again, just to shut him up.

He was going to come; they both knew how close he was, just like they both knew there was no point in denying it. And the thing was, Puck didn’t sound like he minded. In fact, he sort of sounded as though he _liked_ the idea of turning Kurt on enough to get him off just from a little kissing. Like he wanted Kurt to want _him_ , and Kurt knew that was just Puck’s enormous ego talking, but he couldn’t deny that it was true.

So he was going to let Puck make him come, and then he was going to spend the rest of high school – possibly the rest of his life – hating himself for it.

“Kurt!”

The sound of his father’s voice jolted Kurt out of whatever trance being anywhere near Puck put him in, and he froze and then pulled away from Puck to clear his throat and try to sound relatively normal.

“I’ll be right there, dad,” he called, hands already on Puck’s shoulders to shove him backwards. “You have to leave, he’s totally unreasonable when it comes to boys in my room.”

“Yeah, okay,” Puck said, but he sounded kind of dazed, and when Kurt scrambled off the bed and turned to look at him, Puck almost looked a little lost. Like maybe he wasn’t sure what just happened, and Kurt definitely knew the feeling. “Hey, Kurt?”

“We can talk about it later,” Kurt said, hands in his hair to try to tame it into some semblance of normalcy. He glanced at Puck again, then he flushed and reached for his messenger bag to dig out his wallet.

When he turned around again Puck was still watching him, but he was frowning now, and when Kurt held out the twenty Puck ignored it and stood up. He took a few steps forward, stopping in front of Kurt and leaning in to grip the sides of his neck, and before Kurt could stop him Puck was kissing him again.

He expected it to be desperate and sort of insistent, like the kisses on his bed just a minute ago. But it was barely a brush of Puck’s lips against his, then another, and when Puck dove in for a third, like he couldn’t help himself, Kurt slid the twenty into the pocket of his jacket and then pushed him away.

“You have to go.”

For a second Puck just looked at him, then he blew out a frustrated breath, nodded once, and pulled the door open without looking back. Kurt told himself it was for the best and followed him out of the room.

~

So far Puck’s kissing lessons had cost Kurt sixty dollars and most of his dignity. He was starting to think they might have cost him his friendship with Blaine, too, and it would have been funny if it wasn’t so pathetic, because the whole point had been to bring Blaine closer to him.

They’d barely spoken since that stilted, awkward Saturday in Kurt’s bedroom, and though Blaine acted as though everything was normal when other people were around, he wasn’t inviting Kurt to hang out after school or even asking dumb questions about Kurt’s other friends. They’d settled into a weird routine of acting more or less like strangers – acquaintances at best – and the truth was, Kurt couldn’t find it in himself to care.

It wasn’t that he didn’t _miss_ Blaine. It was just…easier, brooding about Puck when Blaine wasn’t around to ask him what the problem was every three seconds. And that _was_ the problem, because Kurt couldn’t stop thinking about Puck.

He knew why. It didn’t take a genius to know that he was confusing teenage hormones with real feelings, and as soon as he put it out of his mind he’d get back to normal. Except it wasn’t just the making out, though that was certainly nice. It wasn’t even the fact that he’d come fairly close to his first bona fide sexual experience with Noah Puckerman, of all people – at least he was pretty sure it counted as a sexual experience, even though nobody had taken any clothes off.

The part of this whole mess that was really bothering him was the fact that he’d actually started to _like_ Puck. As a person, and that was something Kurt hadn’t realized was possible. They hadn’t even really spent all that much time together, if he thought about it. Their conversations were hardly what he could call stimulating, and it wasn’t as though they had anything in common.

But Puck was weirdly sweet and really hot, and when he’d more or less stormed Kurt’s room as though he was actually _jealous_ at the thought of Blaine being there…but surely that part had been Kurt’s imagination. It had to be, because Puck was still straight, and anyway he claimed to be in love with Lauren Zizes.

He hadn’t seen Puck since Saturday evening, and he told himself it was for the best. They both needed some time to get these feelings, real or fabricated, under control, and that wasn’t going to happen as long as they kept confusing the issue with a bunch of unnecessary kissing.

Only kissing was sort of the whole point. It had been the point in the beginning, anyway, but now…now Kurt needed to get his priorities back in order and decide what he wanted so he could start straightening out the mess he’d made. And what he wanted couldn’t be Noah Puckerman, because the only thing Kurt knew for sure was that he couldn’t have Puck.

Maybe it would be easier to sort out if there was someone he could talk to about it, but he couldn’t think of anyone he could trust with this. He’d promised Puck no one would find out, for one thing, and even if he wanted to break that promise, none of their shared friends would understand. He couldn’t talk to his father, not unless he wanted another lecture on trying to entrap straight boys, and frankly he didn’t think he could live through that again.

Which left Blaine, and there was no way Kurt could tell him what was going on without admitting how it had started in the first place. So there was no one he could talk to about it, except…well, Puck. But he wasn’t about to admit to Puck that he’d developed _feelings_ , real or otherwise. The best thing he could do was leave it alone, and if Puck came around again, Kurt would just tell him that he no longer required Puck’s services.

It was a simple enough plan, and it would have been easy to see through if Kurt had been conscious the next time he actually saw Puck.

Maybe he should have seen it coming. He knew Puck was in the house; he’d heard that voice outside his door as Puck followed Finn to his room, and Kurt had wandered near enough to Finn’s door to know that they were still in there playing video games at 9:00. But it was a school night, so Kurt knew he couldn’t stay much longer. 10:00 at the latest, and then it would be safe to come out of his room again.

Kurt might even stop in Finn’s room, maybe bring him some warm milk and just ask how everybody was doing, see if Puck had made any progress with Lauren, maybe. He was only asking as a friend, after all, because he’d transferred, sure, but that didn’t mean he’d stopped caring what happened to his friends.

But Puck was still there when Kurt stopped in Finn’s doorway at 10:15, and when he looked up from whatever he was killing on Finn’s television, he didn’t look as though he was in a hurry to go anywhere.

“Oh,” Kurt said, dragging his gaze away from Puck to glance at Finn, “I didn’t realize you still had company.”

“Yeah, Puck’s crashing here tonight,” Finn said. “We’re not keeping you awake with the game, are we?”

“No, it’s fine,” Kurt answered, stealing another glance at Puck, but he was scowling at the screen once again. “I’ll just leave you to it.”

He told himself it didn’t matter that Puck was staying the night. He was staying with Finn, for one thing, and it wasn’t as though he was just going to wander into Kurt’s room in the middle of the night. Except that was exactly what he did, and when Kurt found himself being shaken awake sometime after midnight, he wasn’t even all that surprised.

“Kurt,” Puck said, hand on Kurt’s shoulder and shaking almost gently. “Hey.”

Kurt murmured something vaguely coherent and turned over, blinking up at the Puck-shaped shadow on the edge of his bed. “What are you doing? My dad…”

“Relax,” Puck said, and Kurt wanted to laugh, because he made it sound so _easy_. “I just wanted to say that I was sorry. I didn’t meant to freak you out on Saturday. I should have figured it would be a big deal for you, the first time.”

“How do you know it was my first time?”

“Dude, you hired me to teach you how to kiss,” Puck said, and Kurt blushed and smiled in spite of himself.

“Okay, so there’s that.” Kurt pushed himself into a sitting position, the covers falling around his waist as he drew up his knees and looked at Puck. “Anyway, it’s fine. I mean, you didn’t freak me out. We got a little carried away, certainly, but no harm done, right?”

“I guess.” Puck turned on the bed until he was facing Kurt, one leg bent and his other foot still planted on the floor. He was wearing a white undershirt and a pair of sweatpants, and Kurt’s gaze drifted south before he caught himself and looked up again. When he did Puck was watching him, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth and Kurt would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t too busy dying of humiliation.

“So about that whole kissing thing, you want to get in a little more practice? It’s on the house.”

“What, you’re providing public services now?” Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow when Puck planted a hand on the mattress next to his hip.

“Something like that,” Puck said, then his hand was on Kurt’s hip, dragging him back down the mattress until he was flat on his back.

Kurt gasped when he hit the mattress, and Puck huffed a laugh and climbed over him. He dragged the covers down to the end of the bed, then he pushed Kurt’s legs apart and stretched out until they were pressed together from their foreheads to their calves. Kurt knew he should stop, that he should tell Puck that this was a bad idea and he had to go back to Finn’s room.

He had to go back and forget they’d ever started this, because no matter how confused Puck was, he wasn’t suddenly gay, and Kurt wasn’t suddenly in love with him. He was in love with Blaine, he’d been in love with Blaine for months and kissing Puck wasn’t helping him figure anything out.

Then Puck leaned in and brushed a soft kiss against his mouth, and Kurt forgot why it was so important that they stop. He forgot about his father sleeping just down the hall, forgot about the possibility of Finn waking up and wondering where Puck had gone. He forgot everything except the mouth moving against his skin, pressing kisses to his cheek, then his jaw, and down his neck. Puck’s fingers fumbled with the buttons on his pajamas, finally managing to tug the top two open and pushing the fabric aside to suck at the spot where Kurt’s neck met his shoulder.

He let out a sound that sounded an awful lot like a whine and arched up into the sensation, hand on the back of Puck’s head and stroking along his ridiculous mohawk. Puck shuddered and pushed back into his touch, and Kurt smiled and ducked his head to catch Puck’s mouth against his own.

Puck’s hands slid down his sides to push up under his pajamas, flattening against bare skin and Kurt sighed into the kiss and didn’t let himself wonder why Puck was doing this. He didn’t care, not when Puck was rocking against him and stroking strong hands across his chest and his sides. Kurt thrust up against Puck, dragging a moan out of him that sent shivers all the way to Kurt’s toes.

He hooked one leg around Puck’s thigh, bare foot digging into cheap fleece and dragging Puck even closer. And that felt great – that felt _amazing_ – a hundred times better than Kurt had ever expected it to. Even through two layers of cotton it was better than he imagined, and he didn’t bother trying to tell himself the lie that it didn’t have anything to do with Puck.

It had everything to do with Puck, and now Kurt knew that he was a fool to think he could do this with Puck and not fall stupidly, hopelessly in love with him. He’d never had a chance, just like he’d never had a chance of Puck returning his feelings. So he got this one night, one night and they were both still wearing all their clothes, and when he woke up tomorrow he’d have to start working on getting over it.

Kurt’s hands landed on Puck’s back, shoving his undershirt up over his shoulders. He took the hint and pushed up off Kurt long enough to yank it over his head, and when Kurt reached up and ran a hand down that solid chest, Puck grinned and tugged the leg that was wrapped around him up over his hip.

Kurt gasped at the sudden shift in sensation, eyes wide and he could only imagine how he looked, but it didn’t matter, because Puck was leaning in to kiss him again. His mouth was on Kurt’s neck, hips moving faster and it was good, it was great, but it still wasn’t enough. It was never going to be enough, no matter how tightly Kurt held on.

“Come on, baby,” Puck murmured against his neck, and Kurt wanted to laugh, because it was so cheesy and so exactly the kind of thing Puck would say. But his laugh came out as a choked sort of moan, and then he was coming, arching up and gasping his way through his orgasm, and Puck swallowed every sound with a hard kiss.

His was still kissing Kurt when he finally relaxed again, kissing his lips and his cheeks and his eyes and even his forehead. He was still rocking against Kurt, still hard and if this was all he got, Kurt wasn’t going to waste it.

He dropped his leg from around Puck’s waist and shoved a hand between them, under Puck’s sweatpants to discover that he was indeed going commando. That was no surprise, and in a way it was kind of a turn-on. Kurt filed the thought away for later and curled his hand around Puck’s dick, taking a minute to get used to the strange angle that went along with doing this for someone else for the first time.

Puck’s hands were braced against the mattress, hips still moving minutely as he thrust into Kurt’s fist. He was watching Kurt, pupils blown wide and at least Kurt knew he was actually enjoying this. Maybe Kurt wouldn’t be his first choice, but he was going to make damn sure Puck didn’t have any complaints about what may very well be his only experience with another boy.

It took a couple minutes to find a rhythm, but eventually Kurt worked it out, thumb sliding across the head of Puck’s cock with each stroke and dragging a little moan out of him. And listening was nice, but if this was his only shot, he wanted to _see_. He let go of Puck long enough to shove his sweatpants down his hips, one hand sliding across his ass in the process and Puck grunted and thrust forward at the touch.

That was…interesting, but Kurt didn’t dwell on it. Instead he pushed Puck onto his side and reached for him again, wrapping his hand around Puck’s dick and stroking hard. Puck’s hand landed in Kurt’s hair, dragging him forward and kissing him, tongue thrusting in and out of Kurt’s mouth in time with his dick.

Puck’s other hand gripped Kurt’s hip hard enough to hurt, and he knew he was going to have a bruise there in the morning. But he wanted it, wanted the reminder that this had actually happened and it wasn’t all a crazy dream. Puck moaned into his mouth, thrusting even harder into Kurt’s grip, and he picked up the speed, wrist aching from the angle but determined to get Puck off, to make it as good as he could manage.

Then Puck whispered his name, mouth open and breathing Kurt’s air as he thrust forward one more time and came in Kurt’s hand. He kept stroking through Puck’s orgasm, grip loose now and just watching as Puck panted his way through wave after wave of pleasure. When he finally rolled onto his back Kurt lifted slick fingers to his mouth, considering for a moment before he shrugged and stuck his tongue out to lick one.

It wasn’t all that different from the taste of his own come; still a little salty and a little bitter, with that same kind of gross texture that Kurt wasn’t sure he’d ever really get used to. But it wasn’t awful, and when he looked up to find Puck watching him he decided it was worth it.

As soon as he pulled his hand away from his mouth Puck was moving, pushing him back onto the mattress and kissing him hard, and that was a surprise, but Kurt wasn’t complaining. He parted his lips to let Puck in, let him taste himself on Kurt’s tongue before he pulled back to press their foreheads together.

“I don’t think you need any more lessons, babe,” Puck said, and when Kurt’s heart skipped at the endearment, he clamped down hard on the sensation and reminded himself it didn’t mean anything. It was just one of those things people said, and knowing Puck he probably figured that was the kind of thing Kurt wanted to hear.

“No, I suppose not,” Kurt answered, doing his best to keep the sadness out of his voice. He knew this was coming; this was what he’d told himself he wanted, before Puck showed up in the middle of the night and caught him off guard. “It’s been very educational. Thank you.”

Puck laughed and let go of him, then he sat up and Kurt braced himself for the moment when Puck left. But he didn’t get out of bed; instead he pulled his sweatpants back on, then he reached for the covers and pulled them over both of them. He settled back onto the mattress next to Kurt, and Kurt knew he should make Puck leave, because if his father found Puck in his room it would be even harder to explain than Blaine spending the night.

But when an arm slid around his waist Kurt couldn’t bring himself to do it; instead he found himself turning into Puck, curling into his warmth and running a hand over his bare chest.

“Get some sleep, Kurt,” Puck said, and when Kurt felt a pair of lips brush across his temple he let himself believe it, just for the night.

~

Puck was gone when he woke up. It was for the best and Kurt knew it, but that didn’t make waking up alone feel any less…lonely. Falling in love with Noah Puckerman definitely hadn’t been part of his plan, but it had happened and now he just had to get on with getting over it.

He was getting pretty good at that, at least. He’d certainly had plenty of experience with unrequited love by now, and he knew he’d survive.

He dragged himself through the rest of the week, going through the motions without really paying attention to what was happening around him. If Mercedes were here he’d at least have a shoulder to cry on, even if he had to lie and tell her he was moping about Blaine. She’d let him lie, then she’d let him put his head on her shoulder and she’d pet him until it was time to tell him to put on his big girl pants and get over himself.

He’d always been able to count on Mercedes for that sort of thing, and he missed seeing her every day. He missed having someone by his side he could really count on; it wasn’t the same with Blaine, even when they weren’t doing this weird thing they were doing. Because Blaine was his friend, sure, but there was the whole weird sexual tension thing hanging between them all the time.

Maybe if Blaine would just decide once and for all what he wanted, it would work itself out. They’d probably be better friends for it, even, if Kurt could just get him to say what it was he wanted, exactly. Even if it was that he wanted Kurt to forget about the possibility of them; Kurt didn’t even think it would be that hard, at least not anymore.

He was still brooding on Friday when he got home, so he didn’t hear the doorbell ring until Finn shouted up the stairs for him. Kurt told himself it wasn’t Puck, because Puck wouldn’t come to the door asking Finn if Kurt was home, for one thing. Kurt sighed and pulled his bedroom door open, then he headed down the stairs to find Blaine standing in the foyer.

“Hey,” Blaine said, and Kurt managed what he hoped was a passable smile.

“Hello, Blaine. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve been a little worried about you, actually,” Blaine said, then he glanced in the direction Kurt assumed Finn had disappeared. He stopped just short of rolling his eyes, then he gestured for Blaine to follow him and headed up the stairs to his room. When they were safely in his room Kurt closed the door, then he sat down at his desk and watched Blaine take a seat on the edge of his bed.

“Much as I appreciate your concern, I’m fine,” Kurt said, shrugging when Blaine raised an eyebrow. “I will be, at any rate.”

He didn’t want to talk about this, not with Blaine and not with anyone, really. What he wanted…what he wanted was to wallow, to replay every moment over and over, knowing that for all he made up parts of it in his head, some of it had been real. The week and a half he’d had with Puck had been more real than any other relationship he’d had to date, and if that was pathetic…well, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Kurt, come on, we’re friends.”

“You’re right, Blaine, we’re friends,” Kurt said.

Which was how all this started, because Kurt was tired of being just Blaine’s friend. He’d been tired of standing on the sidelines watching Blaine flirt with the entire world, make a fool of himself over retail employees and hags-in-training alike, and never once looking in Kurt’s direction, even when Kurt practically engraved him an invitation. He’d gotten himself into this mess trying to find out what Blaine wanted, once and for all, and if he didn’t go through with it now, maybe he never would.

For a second he stared down at his hands, wondering if he could actually go through with it. But he had to, didn’t he? If he ever wanted to know one way or the other, he had to _make_ Blaine tell him the truth. He knew Blaine didn’t want him; if he had he would have done something about it when Kurt told Blaine how he felt. But if Kurt kissed him and Blaine decided that maybe he did want to give it a try, it might be distracting enough to help him forget about Puck.

“So talk to me,” Blaine said, and Kurt flinched and looked up at the sound of his voice.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said, and he was, because he knew this was going to change everything. “I just need to know.”

“Know what?”

Kurt stood up and crossed the room, stopping at the end of his bed. Blaine looked up at him, mouth frozen in a weird half smile and a look in his eyes that told Kurt he could guess what was coming, and he was terrified. In a way it make Kurt feel a little better, knowing how afraid Blaine was of anything that might be real. He could sympathize, certainly, but now that he knew how good real could feel, he couldn’t regret what had happened with Puck.

“This,” he said, then he slid a hand under Blaine’s chin and tilted his face up. Kurt leaned in, stopping just short of kissing him, lips so close he could feel Blaine’s breath. All he had to do was press up, just a little bit, and they’d be kissing. Kurt had done everything else, and all he had to do was take that final step. Only that last step never came, and a second later Kurt let go of him and took a step backwards.

“Kurt…”

“Don’t,” Kurt said, shaking his head and backing toward his bedroom door. “It’s okay, Blaine. I just wanted to know, one way or the other.”

“Look, Kurt,” Blaine said, and Kurt could tell without looking that he was standing up. “I told you, I don’t know what I’m doing here. It’s not you, I just don’t want to mess things up.”

“It’s really okay,” Kurt said. He pulled the door open, then he turned to look at Blaine. “The funny thing is that I thought I couldn’t have what I wanted. And then I did have it, for awhile, and I have you to thank. That’s better than not having anything at all, right?”

“I don’t get it.”

“Someday you will.” Kurt smiled for real this time, and when Blaine’s forehead furrowed in a puzzled frown, Kurt laughed. “Go home, Blaine. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“You’re sure you’re okay.”

“Go,” Kurt said, then he put a hand on Blaine’s shoulder and shoved him toward the stairs. He was still laughing when he heard someone running up the stairs past Blaine, and when Kurt recognized Puck’s voice sort of grunting at Blaine on his way past, his heart skipped a beat. He reached for his door, but before he could close it Puck was standing in the hallway in front of him, looking back over his shoulder toward the stairs.

“What was he doing here?”

“Leaving,” Kurt said, frowning at the anger in Puck’s voice. “What’s wrong with you?”

Puck shrugged, then he pushed past Kurt into his room and Kurt frowned even harder. He followed Puck inside and closed the door, watching Puck pace for a few seconds before he spoke again.

“Seriously, Puck, what’s the problem?”

“You’re not still trying to get with the Hobbit, are you?” Puck asked, turning to look at him and for a second Kurt could almost believe he was jealous.

“No,” Kurt said, and at least that much was the truth. “I suppose I have you to thank for that, actually. Your lessons came in quite handy.”

“So you did put the moves on him.”

“Honestly, what have we been working toward for the past two weeks?” Kurt said, but suddenly he wasn’t so sure.

“How?”

“What do you mean, how?”

“ _How_?” Puck asked, practically grinding the word out, and Kurt took an involuntary step backwards. “Like, were you in your car or at school or what? I showed you like five different moves, dude, which one did you go with?”

“Oh. Something a little different than what you showed me.”

“You threw out the play book? What the hell did you do that for?”

“That’s just the way it worked out.” Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to remember the way it felt when Puck kissed him. The way it felt when Puck slid an arm around him and _fell asleep_ next to him, and Kurt shouldn’t even know how that felt, but now that he did he knew he’d never forget. “I did it, and now you’re off the hook. Why do you care _how_ I did it?”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“Show me,” Puck repeated, carefully, like he wanted to make sure Kurt understood. “I want to see this move you came up with all on your own.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Fucking right I’m serious. So where’d it go down? Was it right here? Jesus, was I in the house when you made your move?”

“Puck, this is ridiculous,” Kurt said, gripping his elbows a little tighter so Puck wouldn’t see that his hands were shaking. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done. You’ve been amazing, honestly. But you can have your life back now. Go spend your time wooing Lauren. If you want advice on gifts just send me a text, I’d be happy to help.”

“Would you forget about Lauren?” Puck said. “Now get your ass over here and show me what you did with him.”

He thought about telling Puck the truth. The truth that Puck had nothing to be jealous about, if he _was_ jealous, for some bizarre reason. Because Blaine hadn’t even kissed him back, and there wasn’t anything to show. But Puck was asking Kurt to kiss him again, and he’d assumed he wasn’t going to get another chance. So no one would blame him for taking this one last opportunity, not when Puck was practically demanding it.

“Fine, if it’s that important to you. Sit down.”

Puck frowned, but he sat down on the edge of the bed, legs planted wide apart and watching Kurt. He took a deep breath and stepped between Puck’s knees, then he reached down and placed one finger under Puck’s chin to tilt his head up. He leaned in, pausing just a breath away from Puck, eyes wide open to watch Puck watching him. Then Puck shifted forward and pressed their lips together, and Kurt swallowed hard against a sudden tightness in his throat and broke the kiss.

“There, are you happy?” Kurt asked, and he knew how miserable he sounded, but he couldn’t make himself care.

“Not really,” Puck said. Kurt started to pull away, but before he could move, a hand landed on his hip to hold him in place. “So then what?”

“Then nothing.” Kurt shrugged and didn’t quite meet Puck’s gaze while he lied. “It was nice enough, I suppose. It just wasn’t what I’d hoped for.”

“I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“I knew I was going to ruin you for every other dude," Puck said, and he sounded so pleased with himself that Kurt couldn't help stealing a glance at him. Sure enough, Puck was grinning, and Kurt's stomach twisted into a tight knot. "I was kind of hoping being in love with the guy or whatever would get you past the fact that he can’t kiss like I can, but once you’ve had a taste of Puckzilla, it’s hard to move on.”

“Rachel seemed to do fine moving on with Finn. And Jesse St. James, if I’m not mistaken. She claimed to love both of them, didn’t she?” Kurt didn’t miss the way Puck flinched at the mention of Finn's name, but he didn't care. He wanted to hurt Puck, just so he'd know a little bit of what Kurt felt like. “So maybe I’m not in love with Blaine after all; in a way I suppose I should thank you for helping me figure it out. In fact, that’s probably worth another twenty dollars.”

He pulled away from Puck with an effort and reached for his wallet, back to Puck while he pulled out two crisp twenties. “Here. I still owe you from the last time too.”

For a second Puck just stared at him, then he stood up and pulled out his own wallet. Kurt told himself he wasn’t surprised that Puck was willing to take the money; he’d known all along that this was a business deal, nothing more. And it was worth a hundred dollars to know the truth, even if no one had ended up getting what they wanted.

Puck opened his wallet, but he didn’t take the money Kurt held out to him. Instead he reached in and pulled two twenties out, then he reached around Kurt to drop them on his desk. “Keep it. I don’t want it.”

Kurt wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that, but finally he sighed and dropped the money on top of the twenties on the desk. He looked up at Puck, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You know, as grand gestures go, yours is about twenty dollars short.”

“Yeah, I spent the first twenty on cupcake ingredients,” Puck said, shrugging and shoving his wallet back in his pocket. “I’ll have to owe you.”

Kurt shook his head and didn’t bother to point out that Puck didn’t owe him anything. He didn’t want to believe that Puck’s grand gesture meant what he thought it might, but it was hard not to hope when Puck was smiling right back at him.

“I thought you were using that money to romance Lauren Zizes.”

“She’s cool and all,” Puck said, taking a step forward, “but the weird thing is, I’d rather make out with you.”

“Because I didn’t make you take it slow?” Kurt asked, arching his eyebrows, but he didn’t step out of Puck’s reach.

“No, I mean, that’s a plus, don’t get me wrong,” Puck answered, grinning when Kurt laughed. “I just...like you. You’re cool and you let me drive your car, and you’re kind of bossy and you do this thing with your tongue that’s totally hot. And you think I’m good at kissing, which was starting to give me a complex, if you want to know the truth.”

“Who said you weren’t a good kisser?” Kurt asked, forehead wrinkling in a frown that was bound to do permanent damage, but he was too distracted by the thought of someone complaining about the way Puck kissed to notice.

“Lauren.” Puck shrugged and looked down, and until that moment Kurt had no idea that Lauren Zizes was _actually_ insane, but now he had verifiable proof. “I mean, she kind of caught me by surprise anyway, and it was only that one time, so it wasn’t like I was at the top of my game.”

“Puck,” Kurt interrupted, the corners of his mouth twitching with the effort not to laugh, because this entire situation was ridiculous, but the fact that Kurt was reassuring Puck of his sexual prowess had to be the weirdest part of all of it. “Maybe you and Lauren just aren’t physically compatible. It’s not the end of the world.”

The fact that Puck seemed to be physically compatible with _Kurt_ was even more crazy than the idea that someone might have a complaint about the way Puck kissed, but Kurt didn’t dwell on it. Maybe Blaine had a small point about this whole ‘bisexuality’ concept. Maybe Puck just hadn’t had a chance to truly discover himself. Whatever the reason, he seemed to want Kurt, and for once in his life Kurt wasn’t going to question why.

“After that night in your car it got kind of hard to remember that I was supposed to be putting the moves on her anyway.” Puck took another step forward, then his hands landed on Kurt’s waist to pull him closer. “I was going kind of crazy thinking about you and the Hobbit all the time.”

“I didn’t kiss him. I started to, just to see if it would feel anything at all like kissing you.”

“Why? I mean, why not go right to the source?”

“You said I didn’t need any more lessons. I thought that meant you didn’t want to do this anymore.” He paused, lip caught between his teeth and staring at a point in the center of Puck’s chest. Then he took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Puck’s gaze. “It happened exactly the way I showed you. Only he didn’t kiss me back.”

“He left you hanging? Really?”

Kurt nodded, lips pressed hard together and cheeks burning, and seriously, this much humiliation couldn’t be good for a person.

Puck backed up until he reached the bed, dragging Kurt with him. Then he sat down hard on the edge of the mattress and pulled Kurt back between his knees, hands on the backs of Kurt’s thighs to hold him in place. “Do you want me to mess up his face for you? Just a little?”

Kurt laughed, then he shook his head and rested a hand on Puck’s cheek. “That won’t be necessary. It wasn’t him I wanted to be kissing anyway.”

“Good,” Puck said, and when Kurt leaned in, Puck met him halfway.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] must have been kissing a fool by carolinecrane](https://archiveofourown.org/works/623820) by [JENGEORGE](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JENGEORGE/pseuds/JENGEORGE)




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